


Last Chance

by litra



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Drabble, Flashwave Week 2018, M/M, Recruitment, Secret Identity, Time Travel, Touch-Starved, i really have no idea where this came from, or where it's going, out of time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 18:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14959827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litra/pseuds/litra
Summary: Savitar has been alone, outside of time since Barry defeated him. At least until a man with a familiar face tracks him down and offers him a job.





	Last Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Flashwave week 2018

He looks down at the paper, the bounty, then back up at the man who had tossed it onto the table. He knew this man once, in another lifetime, when he had a name and a woman who loved him. Or maybe he just knew a man who looked like him. like this man seems to know a man who looked like him, but wasn't... isn't.

"What is this?" Savitar asked the room at large. His voice isn't loud but the people at the closer tables flinch anyway. They don't know he can kill them before they can blink, but they know he's dangerous, and that's enough for most of them.

The man who wears Mick Rory's face takes the question as an invitation to sit. "It's a job, what's it look like."

"I'm not a bounty hunter," Savitar said, turning so Rory can only see the scarred side of his face. Savitar doesn't care about the scars, not anymore, but he knows they upset people, and he's not one to throw away a tool. Rory looks straight at the scars without flinching for a long minute, then stands to take off his jacket, dropping it on the back of his chair before sitting down again. He was only wearing a wifebeater and the burns on his shoulders and arms were on full display.

Touche

At least it answers one question, this really is Mick Rory, or some aspect of him at least; the way Savitar is some aspect of Barry. He wonders how Rory found him in this time and this place when he wasn't even sure where he was himself. Indoor plumbing, strong alcohol and no questions was about the extent of the criteria on his list when he'd chosen it.

"How long have you been drifting?" Rory asks.

"What?"

"You're outside of time. It's how I found you. You're disconnected. No timeline means nowhere to go back to. Means you can't age, or be erased."

"I know what it means," Savitar snarls. He considered killing Rory, but it would take effort he didn't have and a part of him is actually curious. 

Rory just nods. He's thinking about something, and it's taking an age. Savitar stops himself before he can push. Eventually Rory stands and comes around the table. He's tall and broad enough that anyone else would be boxed in against the wall, but Savitar is never trapped anywhere. He lets Rory get in close, a bare inch from touching. Then the other man does touch. It's just a hand covering his on the table, but it's skin on skin and so much more than that.

Savitar lives in a world of vibrations. Every substance, wood and metal and flesh slightly different, and each of those harmonizing with the world they belong to, the timeline they're a part of. Everything except him. Savitar ran so fast he lost track of his own vibration, his own way home, like Mick said. Except now...

Mick's hand doesn't vibrate like the world around them. There's the low pulse of life, and time, but no alternate earth. This man is just as cut off as he is.

Savitar gasps, head falling back as he blinks away tears.

"Time starvation," Rory explains in a low quiet voice, "kind of like touch starvation. Though for you it might be both."

Savitar pulls in enough speed that the world slows down around him, giving him the time he needs to get his shields back up. It takes longer then it should, but eventually he's able to look at Mick and speak in the same cold tone that started this conversation.

"So what? You offering to do something about it?"

"If you like," Mick said. It's unexpected enough that Savitar is still playing catch up through the rest of his pitch, "Time masters, Time agency, Cronaughts, they all come and go, but they all need people like me. Like us. I've been where you are. I know how much drifting sucks when it comes down to it. Now I've got this job, and it needs two people. Anything else, well we'll see what happens."

Mick's hand is still over his on the table. Savitar finds that he doesn't want Mcik to remove it.

"Mick--" He starts, still trying to figure out what to say. 

"Chronos," Mick interrupted. "After a hundred years outside of time, you're probably the only one who even remembers Mick Rory."

And that... For some reason that's what pushes him over the edge. Savitar stands, chest to chest with Chronos, twining their fingers together.

"Fine, I'm in, but just for now. We'll see what happens."

Chronos grinned, and whether people remembered it or not, that was definitely the too wide, wild smile of a former arsonist-thief. He wonders what the job actually entails, and how soon they can get past it to the good stuff. 


End file.
